


Hate Has Just Enough Letters

by unconditional_w



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Aubrey-centric, F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Posen Family, This was supposed to be a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4617222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unconditional_w/pseuds/unconditional_w
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aubrey Posen’s first word was ‘No’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hate Has Just Enough Letters

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as 200 words, then I sort of lost control.

Aubrey Posen’s first word was ‘No’.

Her father had secretly thrown in some celery into a fruit smoothie, and Aubrey’s little nose scrunched up immediately at the smell of it. She’d pushed it aside and gurgled out a short high-pitched “No!”

It wasn’t long before she’d realized this disgust was actually the word ‘Hate’.

She hated purple. It repulsed her to the point of stuffing a purple crayon into the pencil sharpener at school, grinding the little pedal until the crayon was nothing but shreds, and the sharpener was ruined. When her teacher reprimanded her, Aubrey glanced quickly at the purple shavings and felt little remorse, telling Ms. Pratt that it deserved to die.

That was an interesting parent-teacher conference.

Her father told her not to throw the word around so loosely, that she might say something she doesn’t mean, that good girls don’t hate, that some words are taken the wrong way.

So she stopped, for a while.

She reserved the word for real things.

She disliked the itchy kilt her mom made her wear for Thanksgiving, and the woolly socks she’d have to toss on when her grandmother came over for Christmas. But she _hated_ the buckle on her black Mary Janes.

When her little sister Charlotte was brought home from the hospital, Aubrey took a quick glance at the bundle in her mother’s arms, looked her parents in the eyes and said with all the confidence in the world; “I hate it.”

Over the next few years, she finds things she hates, like an explorer on a rough terrain, lifting boulders and discovering little horrors in the world.

Whistling is difficult, time-consuming, and she hates it.

Having bangs makes you sweatier, and anxious, and she hates it.

In junior high, she discovers she hates show-offs, and slackers, and her period.

Charlotte likes every vegetable their parents put in front of her, and one day, Aubrey steals a stick of celery off her plate. She still hates it, and her mom doesn’t even seem to notice.

When she’s older, Charlotte starts to take swimming lessons, and when Aubrey sees her in her first race, she’s amazed at how much talent can be hidden in a little body. She hears before feels her own two hands clapping together. Her parents join her. They become Charlotte’s own private cheering section, and Aubrey thinks this might be what ‘Pride’ is.

In high school, Aubrey discovers she hates pink nail-polish and how it always looks so perfect on Hillary Morgan when she points and laughs at her in gym class.

She discovers she hates _Cosmopolitan,_ and the smell of pot, and teachers who insist on watering their plants in the middle of class.

She’s – also - apparently an over-actor, so Ms. White the drama teacher can only give her the role of Benvolio, leaving Aubrey to basically hover around Mikey Rivera and Jason Coleman for eight hours a week while they forget their lines and deodorant. And she hates that. Whatever it is, she hates it.

During the same theatre class, she also discovers what tardiness is, and her head nearly explodes with _so much hate_ , she discovers it’s actually ‘Rage’.

Charlotte enters junior high. She balances swimming and homework perfectly, and her coach is entering her into junior Olympics. Aubrey discovers she hates sitting at the dinner table while her parents seem to stop asking her how her day was. As Charlotte drones on and on about her activities, Aubrey hates how they look at her like she’s the sun and the stars.

At the final performance of _Romeo and Juliet_ , Aubrey forgets her lines and she can hear Helen’s group of girls giggling in the audience and she discovers she hates the taste of bile at the back of her throat. She hates the feeling of choking on your own body, she hates the way it feels when she throws up in the washroom, but she hates the way it felt to keep it down, too.

When she gets into Barden, but narrowly misses the acceptance letter, she discovers she hates untracked packages in the post.

She cries herself to sleep when her mom tells her they won’t be moving her into her dorm; they’re going to Salt Lake City for Charlotte to meet some new coaches. Aubrey doesn’t tell her parents she hates how this makes her feel, because good girls don’t hate. Good girls are happy for their little sisters.

She makes the Bellas in the first round of auditions, and tells Ms. White to suck it in her head, but quickly discovers the group is in shambles, suffering from a longstanding rift between leaders from the past year. She’s confident things will turn up for the better.

She meets Chloe Beale in her first semester and they discover they live in the same dorm. It takes a few weeks but the two finally cement and bond their friendship over a failed midterm exam. Chloe comes over from across the hall with a pint of ice cream and two spoons and makes her watch a corny rom com. Aubrey hates it, but she likes the way Chloe does, too. The redhead quickly becomes an irreplaceable person in her daily life, but Aubrey soon discovers she hates the way Alice talks to her.

She meets the Treblemakersat a party Chloe’s boyfriend Tom drags them to, and she’s overwhelmed with how much of the food, ambiance, noise level, and company included is everything she hates. She literally doesn’t know where to begin. Then she meets Bumper Allen, dancing from his crotch, grinding against Chloe’s backside, who splashes her drink in his face, and his group cheers and jeers, and Aubrey discovers the addition of ‘Revulsion’ and ‘Rage’ is ‘Loathing’.

She hates losing. She’s always hated losing. Everything about its sting and disappointment, the way her teammates _look,_ and everything about the way her dad brushes past it and regales her about how Charlotte overcomes adversity. The Treblemakers don’t make this hate go away.

She hates Tom. She never tells Chloe this but he’s a slacker and he puts too much gel in his hair and he never comes to support Chloe and the Bellas. One night while she’s drunk, Chloe tells her that she wishes Tom would tell her he loves her more often, and Aubrey wants to smash his face into the pavement.

Charlotte enters high school and her mom tells her she’s doing better than ever, and preparing for the Olympics. Aubrey hates she counts how much time they spend talking about Charlotte, and Aubrey and the Bellas. (25-10)

She learns to hate Bumper’s celebratory _whoop_ and Unicycle’s victory lap. But most of all she hates how they keep losing Bellas with every loss. Every year, these girls come in, lose, and give up.

She discovers she loves the rough schedule of the Bellasbut hates leading choreography when Alice hands it off to her. Luckily, Chloe saves the day and takes over. It works better, because Chloe’s supportive and patient, and everything Charlotte is and Aubrey isn’t. People _like_ Chloe. Everybody likes Chloe.

Throughout her years at Barden, she also discovers she hates how her father never calls.

She hates that she wants him to.

Everybody likes Chloe. She’s an obvious choice as co-captain when Alice begrudgingly, finally, graduates, and hands her pitch pipe to Aubrey with venom in her eyes.

She doesn’t think it needs to be said how much she hates that Bile-at-the-back-of-your-throat thing again. But after her spew at Lincoln Centre, it stops being ‘Hate’. It’s not ‘Shame’ or ‘Embarrassment’. It’s something new; a frenzied gear, churning rapidly inside her, even when she sleeps, she can feel it supporting her equally frantic heartbeat. It sputters loudly while she sleeps and she hears it when she makes her breakfasts in the morning. It rattles ‘Never’ and ‘Must’ and ‘Victory’ in her ear as she tries to peel her avocados. She feels it fuel her. She runs faster. She sings louder. She pushes harder. Chloe doesn’t push back, so it can’t be wrong. It isn’t hate, so it can’t be wrong.

She hates that people don’t write legibly on the sign-up sheet.

And she hates it when they don’t sign up at all. Apparently that’s an okay thing to do, now.

She doesn’t hate Beca Mitchell.

She likes how creative she can be, she likes her voice, and how the other girls seem to actually _respond_ to her. But she also hates her attitude, and her refusal to remove her black eyeliner and nail polish for rehearsals, and her incessant eyebrow movements she exchanges with Chloe, and her crude choice of words, and her _fucking tardiness._

Charlotte starts beating world records, and Aubrey starts telling her parents to just text her, instead.

She hates the way Beca keeps trying to make everyone see that losing isn’t the most important thing.

She likes Fat Amy’s energy, but she hates her impulsiveness. She likes Jessica’s obedience, but she hates her lack of volume control. She likes Stacie’s body, but she hates her distracted nature. The Bellas are on such a verge of being promising this year, but even Chloe is starting to sound off her normal register.

She hates the fact that Beca and Chloe text each other in secret. She can tell they are, they’re so obvious in rehearsals when they go on breaks. She ignores the fact that she’s never seen Chloe this lit up with Tom, because she hates the satisfied smirk Beca’s always got on her face when she sends something off.

Her academic advisor keeps telling her she needs to start thinking about where she’ll be next year, refocus on your grades and realize you’ll be handing the Bellas off, next year. She meets with Chloe at their favourite macaroon shop, and while she shouldn’t be surprised, she hates it when her best friend tells her Beca would be a great replacement.

He has an amazing voice, but oh god does she ever hate the Footnotes.

She’s not quite sure what she hates more about Beca adding ‘Bulletproof’: The fact that she does it at all, or the fact that Chloe can’t support her on this.

When they’re eliminated, it feels like an elephant’s been taken down. She hates the familiar tension in the air, the sulk in everyone’s shoulders, the knowledge that she’ll never see some of these girls again.

She calls her parents for the first time in a while, and she has to remind them this _is_ her senior year, when father tells her to try harder ‘next year’. When she hangs up, she feels something rumble uncomfortably in her stomach and it turns into tears when she lies down. She discovers this is ‘Exhaustion’, and ‘Relief’.

She receives a phone call when she’s in yoga and kicks a celebratory leg into the air. This time, she’ll win it for her.

Of course it’s Chloe who brings Beca back into the mix, and Aubrey can’t help but

 

 

not hate

 

 

the way they sound, together.

 

And she not hates the way this sounds with Chloe’s voice, the way the redhead lights up, like she’s rediscovering music, like this is why she started, like this is how she was always meant to sound. And she not hates that Beca did this for her.

And she not hates the new costumes Jessica prepares for them. Comfortable, breathable fabric. Fat Amy readjusts her hair in front of her shirt, and winks, “Maybe you should even take this off, Aubrey.”

She not hates Benji’s set. He’s endearing, and she knows he’s hard-working, she knows he loves every minute he’s on that stage. She not hates the entire set so much, in fact, she thinks she might even like it.

She not hates the little hitch in Chloe’s shoulder when Beca tells them all she loves them.

She not hates performing on that stage, hearing the music blast around them, letting her hair down, Chloe’s stellar voice hitting those notes, shedding her coat against Amy, easily gliding across the stage from one side to another with the entire group, feeling more at one with herself, with the group, with the crowd, with the energy in the room, with the momentum, with the smile she can’t stop across her face, the roaring crowd. She not hates everything about that moment in time.

She barely registers the trophy, even when Stacie’s shoving the cold metal into her hands. She’s crying out of everything. The group give her this enormous hug that only squeezes larger tears from her eyes, and the trophy is left on the floor for later.

 

 

The only thing she hates is that she accidentally walks in on them; Chloe’s confident legs straddling the DJ’s waist, both sets of lips bruised, their hands in each other’s hair, Beca’s top off, and Chloe’s pants roughly pulled down to her upper thighs. Beca’s moaning something barely audible over Chloe’s pants.

She hates Beca’s awkward apology.

 


End file.
